


Carlos!

by bukkunkun



Category: Magic School Bus, Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Bad Puns, Carlos is a Dork, Cecil is Human, M/M, Miss Frizzle is from Night Vale, Phone Sex, Sexual Content, Unresolved Sexual Tension, carlos is that kid in the magic school bus thing say otherwise and i will fiGHT YOU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-14
Updated: 2013-10-14
Packaged: 2017-12-29 09:48:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1003944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bukkunkun/pseuds/bukkunkun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was something Cecil was enthusiastic about, at first, but he had come to regret it not long after Carlos found a certain file on a certain individual Cecil only barely knew.</p><p>A Magic School Bus headcanon gone nutso. </p><p>Written for the lovely <a href="http://froyo-yoyo.tumblr.com/">FroYo</a> for discovering me on Facebook.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carlos!

**Author's Note:**

> So, miss FroYo made a status on Facebook and I decided to write about it for her. This is the result of the first day of sem break and about half an hour rewatching of Magic School Bus episodes. Please enjoy terrible puns and almost-sex.

It all started that one day when Carlos and Cecil were fooling around in the Night Vale Public library, hand in hand with each other and covered in sweat and blood and tears as they ran from librarians that chased them down seemingly endless shelves of books until it came to a point the two ended up in the public records section.

Curiosity took over Carlos’ interest in finding a book in the library, and he had insisted they look through the files on the townspeople instead of his initial investigation on how books had simply _stopped working_.

It was something Cecil was enthusiastic about, at first, but he had come to regret it not long after Carlos found a certain file on a certain individual Cecil only barely knew.

“It’s Miss Frizzle, oh my God!” the scientist had exclaimed loudly, clearly delighted as he held in his hands a file Cecil realised was a little old, and yellowing, and clearly much older than he was. “It’s Miss Frizzle! I didn’t know she was from Night Vale!”

Cecil came up next to his boyfriend, and looked at the file in his hands. “Oh, her,” he nodded, “I only barely remember her. She was a teacher in the Night Vale Elementary School when I still went there. She was, uh, a science teacher, I think?”

“Cecil, she was the _best_ ,” Carlos gushed, grinning brightly, “It was because of her I loved science.” He smiled fondly back down at the file at the photograph of the woman with wild red hair. “God, it’s been so long since I saw her. Somehow I’m not surprised she’s from Night Vale.”

Cecil cocked his head at that, and Carlos chuckled. “It’s a thing you guys have.” He simply said, before tucking the file away into its folder. “Miss Valerie Frizzle. I miss her. And her school bus.”

“Oh, yes, I remember her school bus. Took us everywhere,” Cecil mused, and Carlos laughed.

“Us too!” he nodded, “There was this one time she took us into a computer, God.” He shook his head, “I was so worried for my little brother, since he got lost in the mainframe of it and stuff.” He laughed, “And God, I remember floppy disks.”

“That was _so_ long ago!” Cecil laughed.

“Yeah, so long ago those disks now are…” Carlos grinned, and Cecil blinked at him. “A _flop_.”

Cecil craned his neck and _stared_ at him, and he laughed brightly. “Well, whatever. I thought it was funny.” He chuckled, slipping the folder back into the drawer he got it from. “C’mon, let’s head back, Cecil.”

The broadcaster paused for a moment, but looped his arm around Carlos’, smirking slightly.

“Where’d the puns come from?” he asked, as they strolled out of the public files section.

“Oh, they’ve been around for a while,” Carlos shrugged, “Just never bothered to take them out. My puns really haven’t seen the light of day since I hit college, so you could say they’re…”

“ _Carlos_ —”

“Half-baked.”

Cecil let go of his arm, eyeing him with a look of disgust, and the man laughed.

“Cecil, you know I love you—”

“Carlos, not now,” the broadcaster cut him off, kissing him chastely, and the scientist laughed, but nodded, taking Cecil’s hand before the two of them ran back into the corridors of the library, heading to the main entrance to get out.

* * *

Somehow, after finding out Miss Frizzle came from Night Vale, Carlos wouldn’t _stop_ with his puns. He would always find something to say, no matter what was going on, and Cecil didn’t know whether he should be happy for his boyfriend, or invest in ear plugs to block out the puns mercilessly thrown his way.

Poetry Week.

“Cecil, Cecil, this poet is completely backwards!”

“It’s called art, Carlos.”

“You could say he writes… _inverse_.”

“Carlos!”

That one time a stop-dancing armless cat came to the studio.

“Wow, he just randomly stops?”

“I guess, Carlos, you have to find some way to fix this, he’s aggravating Khoshekh!”

“Hmm. Why don’t we just make him _paws_?”

When bipedal chickens with stripper legs attacked Night Vale.

“My handgun, Cecil!”

“Wait, wait!”

“Hurry up, the chicken’s crossing the road!”

“I’m _trying_ to find your—”

“You could say it’s _poultry_ in motion.”

There was silence, and Cecil himself fired the gun, earning him rhythmic hoots from his boyfriend, followed by apologetic kisses smothered all over his annoyed expression.

It wasn’t like Cecil _hated_ the puns, if anything; they made Carlos all the more endearing to him.

“Cecil, have you seen the new wiring system Mikey set up for me last week? It’s _electrifying_.”

“Cecil, this stuff is made right out of solid stone, because _God_ is this stuff _hard_.”

“Cecil, your eyes are absolutely gorgeous—they’re purple, and _God_ do they make me want to _mauve_.”

Okay, _endearing_ was pushing it, but Cecil understood that Carlos wasn’t the most perfect thing out there, and he knows that Carlos isn’t always the best at everything, but he is aware of lines and when people cross them.

* * *

“Oh, _Carlos_ ,”

It’s been two weeks, and Cecil is desperate to get laid. Clambering on top of his boyfriend, their lips locked together and their clothes half-off them, half already in a pile off their bed in some corner of Carlos’ lab’s spare room, their hands feverishly wandering over each other’s heated body as both of them refused to part far away enough from each other to properly strip.

“I missed this, missed you,” he breathed between kisses and tongue and teeth, and beneath him the dark-skinned man chuckled lowly in that oaky voice of his as his hands came to a rest on his hips.

“Missed you too, Cecil.” He replied, snaking one hand up Cecil’s back, slowly, sensually riding up his shirt and feeling his heated skin beneath, making the broadcaster on top of his mewl in pleasure as the other hand slipped under the waistband of his pants, caressing skin he so much missed touching in those two hard weeks that kept them both apart. “How do you want—”

“I want to ride you,” Cecil growled into Carlos’ lips, grinding his hips into the man’s, earning him a groan of approval, as Carlos’ hands gripped his waist tightly, lifting him up just enough to pull his pants off, a lecherous grin spreading across Carlos’ face when he saw Cecil wasn’t wearing underwear—not even the lacy panties he liked wearing when he was in the mood to turn Carlos on.

“Lube?” he asked, half-growling as he saw Cecil’s erection spring free, and the broadcaster pressed a bottle into his hand. Carlos wasted no time in getting some on his fingers, breathing warmth onto them first for Cecil’s comfort as he felt nimble fingers undo his fly, hands rough against his erection, trapped in jeans as Cecil pulled down his pants slightly, just enough to set his cock free.

“ _God_ , Cecil,” Carlos gasped, as he felt Cecil’s hands wrap around his dick, smooth and moist from his hand lotion rather than from the lubricant now generously coating his dark fingers.

“Carlos, hurry up,” Cecil whined, squeezing Carlos’ erection lightly, earning him a groan of approval from his boyfriend. Carlos didn’t trust himself to say anything coherent, and instead opted to nod furiously as he reached behind Cecil to slip his fingers into the crevice of his ass, fingers brushing against his entrance—

“Oh, _Carlos_!” Cecil gasped, just at the sensation, and the scientist smirked.

“You’re eager.” He chuckled into Cecil’s ear, as suddenly hands came off his dick and tangled into his hair, as Cecil leant forward to growl into his ear.

“Prepare me _now_ , Carlos, or I swear I— _ohhh,_ God, oh, Carlos!” Cecil’s threat melted into gasps and mewls of pleasure as Carlos slipped his finger inside him, the rings of muscle parting easily to allow him to slip a second one inside, scissoring gently as he prepared Cecil for his cock.

“You’re opening up easily,” Carlos panted, groaning as one of Cecil’s hands went back to stroke his cock, while the other one fisted his hair, pleasantly painfully, sweet moans slipping into his ears as he added another finger into Cecil.

“I-I thought about you,” Cecil gasped into his ear, “Every night,” his voice dropped to a low, husky tone, as a hot tongue flicked at the shell of his ear. “I even used that toy you gave me.”

Carlos’ dick gave a jerk when he thought about the tentacle dildo he had bought for Cecil on their anniversary, and he grit his teeth as he felt Cecil’s hand on his cock hasten.

“Good boy,” he rumbled, and he could feel Cecil shiver pleasantly at his tone, before feeling his entire body tense up as he cried out when he hooked his fingers and thrust them particularly roughly against Cecil’s prostrate.

“Carlos! I-I’m, I’m, oh, please,” Cecil babbled, and Carlos knew what he asked for, pulling his fingers out with a wet _pop_ before pulling Cecil up, angling his entrance right above his throbbing dick.

He grinned.

“Let’s get crackin’ my Kraken up your sweet crack, Cecil." 

Oh, he just _couldn’t_ resist, could he?

Suddenly Cecil went stock still, and he _looked_ at Carlos long and hard. The abrupt change in his boyfriend’s mood waved the haze of lust away from Carlos’ mind as he suddenly realised Cecil had climbed off him and was now pulling his pants on, fixing his shirt and smoothing down his tie.

“C-Cecil? Wh-what?”

The broadcaster shook his head, kissed Carlos sweetly on the lips, before leaving the room, making sure to slam the door behind him as he left.

Carlos blinked, and he sat there for what felt like hours, waiting for Cecil to come back, to say it was all just a big joke on him as his boner raged on, and he began to wonder how long it was healthy for it to stay up that long, when suddenly his phone rang. It was a text from Cecil.

 _Carlos. Sweet, reliable, beautiful Carlos, I love you, but I am through with your pun shit_.

He blinked at the message. It was rare for Cecil to swear, and for some reason, it only made the entire awkward situation all the funnier.

“Whatever, Cecil,” he chuckled, sending back a reply:

 _I thought it was funny_.

A reply came back soon enough.

_Try again, sweetheart._

Carlos chuckled, and sent back a reply.

_I’m sorry._

There was a long moment, and Carlos was sure his boner died down, when a reply came back.

_Let’s try again tomorrow, okay? If it helps, I’m using your present right now._

The thought of Cecil with a dildo lodged inside him as he was on the phone with Carlos sent a bolt of arousal down his spine and right to his cock.

If it wasn’t up then, he was _sure as hell_ it was up now.

_I’m going to call. What are your thoughts on phone sex?_

His hand was wrapped around his dick at the thought of Cecil bouncing on the dildo he bought, when his phone rang. Hastily, he picked it up and answered it to hear Cecil’s voice, much heavier and raspier, and clearly so very aroused.

“ _Call-ossally arousing, dear, sweet Carlos_.” Cecil purred on the other side.

Carlos couldn’t help but laugh, fondly, but he could hear the wet squelching of the dildo in Cecil, and his boyfriend’s breathy gasps, and the thought of replying with yet another pun escaped his mind as his hand was back on his dick, panting heavily into the receiver on his phone.

“Tell me what you’re doing, Cecil.”

“ _Gladly_.”

Tomorrow, he thought, tomorrow he’d get properly laid. Tonight, he would just have to settle for this.

Not that he enjoyed it.

Chalk it up to the ever-growing list of ‘Kinks-I-Didn’t-Know-I-Had-Thanks-A-Lot-Cecil’, he thought to himself as he stroked himself to the sound of his boyfriend (very loudly) masturbating to the sound of his heavy panting over the phone.

And hey, who knew Cecil spewing out his own stone-dead puns could sound hot?


End file.
